


Stay By My Side As I Fall

by JuliaBaggins, smallprotector



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Era, Character Death, Dreams, Injury, M/M, Violence, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9153394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBaggins/pseuds/JuliaBaggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallprotector/pseuds/smallprotector
Summary: When Enjolras reveales more than he should in a public place, things take a turn for the worse and Grantaire suffers the consequences.





	

**Author's Note:**

> We melted lead, poured it into cold water and made a fic from the resulting shapes. Enjoy!!

Enjolras and Grantaire were arguing at the Musain. Grantaire had provoked Enjolras more than usual, and Enjolras had risen to the bait with his renowned fervour. He couldn’t contain himself the way he knew he should when Grantaire was questioning all he held dear. Finally, he couldn’t stop himself from saying something he’s come to regret.

“You know we’re going to overthrow the government! We have to munition and guns we need, and the people will rise- they know that justice must be defended. They will feel it in their souls.”

A man at the table next to them started to pack up, trying to be as silent as possible- but his jerky movements drew Enjolras’ attention and he watched him as Grantaire drank. As he adjusted his coat, the blue of his shirt showing through- the blue of a policeman’s shirt. Grantaire was still talking, unaware of what Enjolras had just realized. 

“The only thing they will feel, oh mighty leader, is annoyance at their sleep being disturbed- and even then, they will rest easy, not letting their conscience trouble them overmuch,” Grantaire said before taking a swig from his bottle. 

Enjolras had frozen, his heart beating faster and his skin breaking out in goose bumps as he thought back to what he had been saying. He’d revealed himself as a revolutionary- a violent one at that. The man was surely a spy who would hurry back to tell his masters about what he had said. And though his thoughtless words, Enjolras knew his friends would be doomed as well if the spy was successful. 

Grantaire put down his bottle after shaking it to check that it was empty and turned back to Enjolras. 

“No reply? Is it really so easy to render you voiceless, your speech stolen like Echo’s- though if you repeat my words back I may-”

“Grantaire, stop talking. Follow me if you wish,” Enjolras said, rising from his chair and forgoing his coat in his hurry to chase after the spy. 

“Have I said too much? What’s going on? Why are you in such a hurry?” Grantaire asked, struggling to keep up with Enjolras’ longer strides to the door. 

“That man works for the police. He heard us talking. I have to stop him before he can report back.”

Every word was curt and clipped, not displaying the fear his hand’s trembling betrayed. 

Grantaire watched him for a split second before he followed Enjolras outdoors; both looking for the man who had just left the bar. And there he was, just walking around a corner at the end of the alley they stood in, seemingly in a hurry. Enjolras’ eyes found Grantaire’s for a moment, seeing the determination to find the man who could put their friends in danger there, and nodded shortly. They’d find him, they had to. And when they did- well. 

Enjolras and Grantaire chased the spy through various streets and alleys, the man unaware of the fact that he was being followed- or so they thought. When they left into another alley, one that was even darker and shadier than the previous ones, he was suddenly gone, shadows being their only company, and when Enjolras just turned around to Grantaire, a question in his eyes, he saw one of the shadows moving in the corner of his eye.

The man had been hiding in a low house’s entrance and now he was moving. Or rather, his arm was moving together with the object he was holding in his hand. A gun. A gun that was pointing straight at Grantaire and Enjolras tried to do something, to open his mouth, scream a warning, just anything, but he was too slow. The gun fired, a disturbing sound in the alley’s calmness, and once again, Enjolras’ eyes found Grantaire’s. 

Grantaire’s green eyes were wide, confused, and they broke the connection with Enjolras’ to look down. To focus at the red, red blood that was quickly colouring his shirt. Enjolras couldn’t turn his own eyes away, away from the blood, and so it took Grantaire’s panicked scream of his name for Enjolras to turn around and notice the spy storming at him. He couldn’t have said what he did exactly afterwards, he only knew that there was the man, the man who had hurt Grantaire, and he was so angry, so scared, and the man wasn’t standing anymore, and he had a knife, but Enjolras didn’t care, not when he heard his own name being said by Grantaire again, so weak this time, so not sounding like the man usually did, and somehow, the knife found its way into the spy’s stomach. And Enjolras couldn’t care less.

Enjolras forgot about the man as soon as he turned around again, looking for Grantaire – only to find him laying at the dirty cobblestones that made up the alley’s floor. And Enjolras was at his side, getting down to his knees, hands unsure if it would be safe to touch Grantaire. In a far corner of his mind, Enjolras noticed the knees of his trousers getting damp and wondered from what since it hadn’t rained for a week- until he looked down and saw the red. 

He struggled to take of his shirt, his fingers not working as they should. He still managed to tie the fabric around Grantaire’s shoulder, terrified of making it worse. 

The powerlessness that washed over him once he had tied the makeshift bandage was painful. He didn’t know how else to help. He was a leader of a revolution- how could he not know? Would he lead all their friends into such a fate and stand by unable to help? As these thoughts ran through his head, he shook himself and resolved to stop being so useless. So he couldn’t help- Combeferre would know how though- and Combeferre lived only one street away. 

But how on earth could he get Grantaire to Combeferre? For all that Grantaire was shorter than him by more than a head he was surprisingly compact- there was no way Enjolras could carry him. 

He’d have to leave Grantaire here. 

Even as he figured this out, he hated the very thought- it was so dirty and cold here and it was no place for anyone to rest, let alone bleed out. But he had to do it. Alone he could only make it worse. 

So he cast one last look at Grantaire, taking in his face, so relaxed and unlike the Grantaire who loved to antagonise Enjolras, before turning away and running to Combeferre’s rooms.

Out of breath he arrived at his friend’s door and pounded at it until it was opened. 

“Who’s there?” Came from inside, and Enjolras would have admired the caution at any other time. 

“Enjolras, you have to come with me it’s Grantaire- he’s hurt.”

Combeferre ripped open the door, hurrying away to get his bag before turning back to Enjolras and following him out of the building and to where Grantaire lay. 

The only aspect that had changed about the scene since Enjolras had left was that now, there was even more blood surrounding Grantaire’s motionless body. Enjolras could do nothing more than stand by and watch as Combeferre knelt in Grantaire’s blood, his hands moving over the man’s chest that was rising and falling, if just barely, and Enjolras tried not to think about how much blood Grantaire had lost, how pale his face was, how weak his breathing seemed to be. And Enjolras lost himself in that, in counting Grantaire’s breaths, in and out, again and again…

“Enjolras, I need your help. I’ve done as much as I can here, and he’ll mend if given proper care.”, Combeferre’s voice caused him to snap out of his thoughts and shortly after, they were carrying Grantaire, who was still unresponsive and far too pale for Enjolras’ liking, to Combeferre’s house and laying onto his bed. 

“We can only wait now Enjolras. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

 

Everything around Grantaire was blue and dark. He felt weightless. He couldn’t see anything clearly but were shapes around him, things he turned his head to look at but could never quite see. When he tried to inhale he felt something burn in his chest, pain radiating from his torso, making him flail and try to escape from something that was coming from inside him. As he squirmed, the figures got bigger and he was certain there was something there, something that was coming for him and would hurt him even more. It was so close now he could see it had tendrils- and they were reaching for him, surrounding him. 

He kicked his legs to try to escape but the thing came ever closer and he was sure this would be his end.

But suddenly he saw a flash of gold in the murky blue and a red shape made its way over to him- and as it got ever closer he saw it was Enjolras, in his ridiculous Robespierre waistcoat. He instinctively reached out toward him and Enjolras grasped his shoulder, the contact burning like a cleansing fire beneath his skin as the was pulled away from the other silhouettes that has surrounded him. 

 

Grantaire blinked against the brightness that suddenly surrounded him, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light, and when he was able to focus, there was Enjolras’ face next to him. But surely, he had to be still asleep, had to be dreaming, because Enjolras would never look at him like this, his features clouded with worry, and there was something in his eyes, something when he realized that Grantaire was awake and looking at him, something that hadn’t been there before…

For a moment, Grantaire was sure that Enjolras was about to say something, that he’d maybe offer an explanation for all of this – where they were, why Grantaire was sleeping in a foreign bed, why his shoulder was hurting that badly, why Enjolras looked at him like that. But then, Grantaire felt Enjolras fingers gripping his own, and when their hands held each other’s, all of the questions seemed to leave his mind. They didn’t matter anymore, because Enjolras was holding his hand, and Grantaire realized that he could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do comment what you thought!


End file.
